


5 Times Sniper Saved Buttons and 1 Time He Couldn't

by buttons_n_bose



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: 5 + 1 Things, Angst, Best Friends, Blood, Boy Saves Girl, Character Death, Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Late Nights, Male-Female Friendship, Modern Era, Panic Attack, Phone Calls, Sad Ending, Skateboarding, anxiety attack, fem!buttons, hero - Freeform, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 15:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20156044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttons_n_bose/pseuds/buttons_n_bose
Summary: Sniper was always there to save Buttons when she needed him...but he couldn't always pull it off





	1. 5 Times Sniper Saved Buttons

I  
Buttons was learning how to ride the skateboard JoJo had given her for her birthday. Sniper told her it should be easy; she had her license, she rode a vespa, all she needed was balance. She held his hand as he pulled her gently around the empty parking lot. She refused to wear pads or a helmet, because she wasn’t going that fast and “the ground is not that far, Snipes. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not the tallest tree in the forest.”  
She finally got the hang of it, letting go of his hand and going off on her own. She wasn’t doing tricks just yet, but she carried some speed and could turn without falling. She rode towards him, going a little too fast, attempting a sharp turn around one of the dividers. Sniper saw her fall as if it were happening in slow-motion, he was at her side within moments, Buttons falling into his arms as the skateboard shot out from under her feet and rolled into a divider.

“My knight in shining armour,” Buttons joked, getting to her feet.

“Would you please wear a helmet next time?”

“Risking your life is the best part.” She was back on the board in no time, but Sniper noticed she was riding much slower.

II  
They were playing video games at Sniper’s apartment. Buttons couldn’t remember the name of the game - or even the main objective - but she’d been told to kill anyone who wasn’t Sniper’s character, and that much she could do.

“So help me God, if you go in that building, I’ll shoot you,” Sniper threatened.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” Buttons approached the door slowly. “It looks fine.”

“There’s definitely a guy hiding in there.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve played this enough times to know the enemy is always inside.”

“So we catch him by surprise. I go through here, you go through the back. One of us is bound to kill him.”

“Sure. And the other one dies.”

“Utilitarianism, sweetheart. It’s all about the greater good.” She looked away from the screen long enough to flash him a smile. “I’m going in.”

“Buttons!”

She burst through the door, weapon at the ready. Sure enough, someone from the opposing team waited on the other side, his gun pointed at her. Sniper ran closer, shooting the enemy through the window.

“What did I say? The enemy’s always inside.”

“And what did I say? One of us is bound to kill him.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I’m winning.”

And she was.

III  
“C’mon, doll, give us a smile.”

This, of course, made Buttons’ resting bitch face even darker. She glared daggers at the men calling her from a few feet away, putting on an unphased exterior but praying they didn’t come any closer.

“You got a name?”

She ignored them. She was a rock, a boulder - unmoving, unbothered. They were tiny ants and they would be crushed. 

“Don’t be like that, princess. We just wanna talk.”

Buttons balled her hands into fists within the pockets of her sweater. Taking deep breaths, she tried to drown out their voices by playing music in her mind.

“What? You think you’re too good for us? Bitch, give us a smile.”

Buttons felt an arm around her waist and she whirled around, ready to give whichever man it was a piece of her mind. Instead, she was met with a familiar cocky smirk and a wink, Sniper stooping to kiss her forehead.

“You okay, love? These men bothering you?”

Buttons shrugged. “What men? I only see pathetic weasels.”

Her attackers finally left, and she immediately wrapped her arms around Sniper. “Thank you,” she said, her voice shaky. “God, thank you so much.”

“Of course.” He held her tightly, knowing that she needed him to. “I’ll always be here when you need me.”

IV  
The two sat on Buttons’ couch, killing time in front of the television, changing channels without committing to anything for more than twenty minutes. Buttons was on her phone, scrolling through her Instagram feed. She came across a post she’d seen dozens of times on different accounts: How do you say “I love you” in your language?

Some of the comments were genuine. Te amo. Je t’aime. Ich liebe dich. Ti amo. Many of them were jokes. But some of them were special, things like “Text me when you get home” and “I hope your parents like me.” She found her personal favourite, hidden between Japanese and Russian: “Have you eaten yet today?”

“What are you looking at?”

“Memes.” She scrolled to the next photo, which was a terribly edited photo of Spongebob, and showed Sniper the screen.

“Mm, three out of ten.”

“Three? That’s generous. I say one and a half.”

Sniper changed the channel again, The Deadliest Catch making way for The Goldbergs.

“Oh, leave it here.” Buttons took the remote from his grasp. “This show is hilarious.” They watched a couple of back-to-back episodes, but then The Bachelor started and neither of them were particularly interested in watching.

“I should get going.” Sniper checked his watch. “I’m supposed to meet up with Davey in the morning.”

“Oh, fun. I’ll see you later then.” She changed the channel, landing on reruns of Star Trek.

“Oh hey.” Sniper paused at the door, and Buttons turned to see what he wanted. “Did you eat today?”

She smiled. “Yeah.”

“Good. See you tomorrow?”

“For sure.” She lifted her hand in farewell as he opened the door. “Text me when you get home.”

V  
It was nearly two in the morning when Sniper’s phone rang. He was asleep, but he’d forgotten to turn on Night Mode. He rolled over to turn it off, squinting at the bright screen as though it were a minuscule sun on his bedside table. Through the haze of sleep, he could make out Buttons’ contact information.

Why would Buttons call at such an unreasonable hour? It was an emergency, it had to be. He didn’t even consider letting it go to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“I woke you up.” It was a statement, not a question.

“No,” he lied.

“Liar. Sorry. I’ll let you go.”

“No, no. It’s okay. What’s up?”

A long pause on the other end. “I need to talk to you.”

“Okay.” He sat up, turning on the lamp beside him. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know. I just...I need to talk to someone right now. I don’t want to be alone. I’ve been listening to music for like an hour but it’s not...it’s not helping. It usually helps.”

“What are you listening to?”

“Jeremy Zucker. Alec Benjamin. Dean Lewis.”

“Ah. It’s one of those moods?”

“Mhm.”

“But worse.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“No, no. It’s okay. Your voice is enough.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm. Do you mind if I keep the music playing?”

“Not at all. Turn it up a little - I want to hear, too.”

Buttons turned up the volume, just enough so that Sniper could hear the music without it being overbearing for her. They talked for hours, about everything and nothing. He asked what caused this feeling. She said she wasn’t sure, but she’d read a sad story right before bed and that might have caused her to spiral. They talked about movies they’d cried watching and times they’d cried from laughing too hard. It was nearly 4:30 when Sniper asked if she’d ever had a real, authentic Parisian macaron. She didn’t answer, her soft snores carrying through the phone. Sniper smiled, lying back down and setting the phone beside him.

“Goodnight, Buttons,” he whispered. He closed his eyes and allowed the sound of her sleeping to lull him back under.


	2. ...and 1 Time He Couldn't

They were walking home from the arcade. It was dark, almost midnight, the crescent moon shining above them and the stars peeking through the haze of clouds and big-city pollution. They were talking about stupid things they’d seen on the internet, laughing at the lowest-tier of comedy that they were ashamed to find amusing.

Buttons wanted to take the shortcut. Sniper said no, it was too dangerous, didn’t she learn that when she was little? Alleys at night are bad news.

But he was with her, she said, so she would be safe. They’d be fine. Besides, it was faster.

Sniper gave in, turning right at the next opportunity instead of continuing straight to the intersection.

They didn’t think much about it. They had each other, and they were fooling around, making dumb jokes and taking aesthetic pictures in the dim light. Buttons walked a few paces ahead, pulling her phone from her pocket to take a picture of Sniper in the motion-triggered light of someone’s shed.

“Give me the phone.”

Buttons was surprisingly calm as she turned to the man hiding in the shadows. “No.”

_Fuck._ Sniper started walking towards her. _ Just give him the phone. _

“Give me the phone, bitch, or I’ll shoot.”

“You think I don’t know a trick gun when I see one?”

A barked laugh. “A smart girl, huh? Alright, Einstein, you got me. I’m not the one with the gun.”

“Just give him the phone,” Sniper told her, almost at her. He couldn’t see the man, but his voice made it obvious that he wasn’t to be trifled with. “You can get another one.”

“And your money, too,” the man added. “I want your money.”

Buttons didn’t move.

“Are you deaf? Hand it over.”

“You can’t shoot me.”

“I can,” said a different, deeper voice.

It sounded like thunder, Sniper thought. As though someone had trapped a thunderclap in a tube and taken it to an echo chamber, the sound bursting through its container and reverberating through the space. It was deafening and then it was silent.

And Buttons was face-down on the ground, red leaking from where her heart should be and a hold in her sweater jacket where the bullet went through. The shining bullet hit the floor with a sound like a prayer bell. Sniper couldn’t move, two men darting out from the shadows to grab the phone from her hand and the wallet from her pocket before disappearing into the night. 

“Shit!” Sniper couldn’t feel his feet but he knew he was moving, he had to be, because he was just standing over there and now he was at her side, on his knees, turning her over. 

Buttons yelled out in pain as she rolled over the wound, and Sniper swore again.

“Language,” Buttons teased, her voice weak.

“Shut up. Shut the _ fuck _ up.” Someone was crying, he could hear it. Someone was sniffling and there was a faint whimper coming from...him? Was he crying?

“Hey.” Buttons reached for his hand. He lifted her up, resting her on his knee and covering her small hand in his.

“You’re so dumb, you know that?”

Buttons smiled. “It’s one of my more likeable traits.”

“You should’ve given it to him.”

“He was a bully. I don’t give in to bullies.” She coughed like they do in the movies, and her eyes unfocused as she looked at the sky.

“No, no, Buttons...stay with me.” He shook her lightly. “Come on, Davenport, you’re not leaving me behind.”

“Never.” She blinked, her eyelids moving slowly. “I’m just...looking.”

“Looking at what?” He needed to tell someone. Call someone. He pulled out his phone, his hand shaking like a leaf.

“The stars. They look like your eyes when I tell a dumb joke.”

“Your jokes are great,” he promised.

_ 9-1-1, where can I direct your call? _

“Ambulance.”

_ What’s your emergency? _

“My friend, she’s been shot. We’re in Harlem, in an alley off of Madison and One Twenty-Ninth.”

_ The ambulance is on its way. Is your friend responsive? _

“Yes.”

_ Is she breathing? _

Barely. “Yes.”

_ I’m going to help you keep her that way. Can you find the source of the blood? _

“Yeah. They were a really good shot - it’s her heart.”

_ Okay. Strip away clothing if necessary and apply pressure to the wound. Be careful not to dislodge the bullet. _

“The bullet went through.”

_ Okay. Can you dress the wound? Do you know how? _

“Uh-huh.” Sniper managed to press the speaker button and set his phone beside him, pulling off his shirt and wrapping it around Buttons.

“I’m sorry I said to take the shortcut,” Buttons whispered. “It’s my fault.”

Sniper shook his head. “No, none of this is your fault. Don’t think that, okay?”

_ Sir, do you know CPR? _

“I think so.”

_ I’ll walk you through it. You need to start now before she stops breathing. _

“I’m going to set you down, okay?” Sniper told Buttons, his voice softer than it had ever been, as he lay her back on the pavement. “I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get you through this.”

_ CPR is thirty chest compressions and two ventilations. Make sure the compressions are at about one hundred beats per minute. _

“I don’t...I don't know what that means.”

_ It’s to the beat of “Stayin’ Alive.” Or “Another One Bites the Dust.” _

“Okay.” He got started, Stayin’ Alive playing in the back of his mind. It was grotesquely ironic, and he wanted nothing more than for Buttons to make some kind of quip about it. But she couldn’t, and she wouldn’t, so he had to keep going.

_ When you hit thirty, it’s two ventilations. _

“And that’s...mouth-to-mouth?”

_ That’s right. _

“Okay.”

A tear slipped from Buttons’ eye as she looked from the sky back to Sniper. “It hurts.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m going to save you, okay?”

“It really hurts, Sniper.”

Sniper’s heart ached as she whispered his name. “It’s going to be okay.”

He bent down and placed his lips on hers. He wished he’d paid more attention during the First Aid unit at school as he pinched her nose and breathed for her. _ In. Out. In. Out. _ He sat up straight again and continued compressions. _ Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Stayin’ alive. _

“Sniper.”

“Shh.”

“Snipes, you’re crying.”

“No shit.” He couldn’t wipe away the tears, couldn’t stop the compressions.

“Sniper, stop.”

“I’m trying, love.”

“Stop the CPR.”

And he did. Her words held some form of power over him and stupidly, foolishly, he pulled his hands away.

“I need…” She trailed off, unable to fully form her sentence.

“What, Buttons? What is it?”

“Need...to tell you.” She coughed again, blood bursting from her mouth. “Sniper, I...I love…”

Her lips moved, but no sound came from them. _ You. _ With a final smile and a weak squeeze of his hand, her eyes shifted to the sky as her body went limp in his arms. He could hear her heart stop, hear her breath cease. She was gone.

“No, no, shit, come on, Buttons, come on, stay with me.”

_ Sir? _

“Buttons, come back. Come back, Buttons. _Buttons._”

But she would never come back, and he knew it. He knew when the ambulance finally arrived, paramedics running towards them with a stretcher and a first-aid kit. He knew when they finally pried her from his arms, checking for a pulse. He knew when the uniformed woman placed a tender hand on his shoulder and shook her head, sorrow in her eyes. He knew when she asked if he wanted to say goodbye.

He thought he could. But she didn’t look dead when he approached her. She looked asleep, like all the times she’d crashed on his couch or fallen asleep in the passenger seat of his car during a long drive home. She couldn’t be...gone.

“I love you, too,” he managed to say. He kissed her forehead for the last time and stepped back, the paramedics taking her away. The bullet was still on the road, as was a small pool of her blood.

He wouldn’t see her in the morning. She wouldn’t send him a meme or song recommendation at one in the morning, then scold him for still being awake when he responded. He wouldn’t ask her to a movie, she wouldn’t blush at his flirting, and they would never kiss at the top of the ferris wheel like he’d promised. He’d never promise to kiss her at the ferris wheel out loud. She’d never know how she made him feel.

“The police will be here shortly for questioning,” the paramedic told him.

“Don’t bother.” Sniper shoved his hands in his pockets, turning to walk away. “I don’t care.”

The moon shone as he walked down the alley and back to the main street. When he looked up from his shoes, he saw Buttons leaning against a streetlamp.

“Why so blue?” She asked, flashing him a sad smile. “I’m still here.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Then who are you talking to?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “Please, just leave me alone.”

“You did your best.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“It was all you could do,” she insisted. “You tried to save me.”

“But I couldn’t.” Sniper’s voice broke as a new wave of tears came. “I couldn’t save you.”

“I’ll always remember the times you did.” She came closer, balancing on the tips of her toes to brush her lips against his cheek. He could have sworn he felt a gentle breeze on his skin.

“Goodbye, Snipes.” And she was gone, for the second and last time.

Sniper stared at the streetlamp. “Goodbye, Buttons,” he whispered. He brushed away his tears, pulled his hood over his head, and turned the corner


End file.
